Page 7 of The Queen's Huntsman
Not that Bryn would ever know it, since she only ever spied him from her window, practicing out in the yard. Anything he knew about that night’s humiliation, he would know only through Ely. But that suited her well enough, because Gwendolyn was mortified for Bryn to know—in part, because she’d feared his response.
Perhaps he would say nothing to Locrinus… in fear for his sister, or even for himself. It was far too easy to say what one might do in the face of adversity, still another amid strife.
But if he was still the Bryn she knew and loved, she feared he would challenge Loc, and under the present circumstances, there would be no one who would rise to his defense—not even Gwendolyn, because there was nothing she could do for anybody, including herself.
The state of her hair should attest to this.
“Why… have you come?” she asked.
Her old friend straightened, seeming to compose himself. “Majesty,” he said once more. “I’ve come to apprise you… we’ll be entertaining visitors for the evening’s feast.”
Gwendolyn knit her brows. “Visitors?”
“Emissaries,” he said, and she blinked.
Had her father’s allies bent their knees so readily?
Gods.She was afraid to ask but did so anyway. “Which tribes?”
“Atrebates… and… Durotriges.”
Gwendolyn’s heart flitted, but she hid her excitement, only nodding, suddenly understanding what he was trying to convey with his eyes… in part, a warning… to remain on her best behavior… for his sake and for Ely’s. But this was Bryn’s uncle who’d come—a man Gwendolyn had considered among the closest of allies. It could be that this would be fortuitous… or it could be the end of all hope. Whatever the case, tonight, for the first time, Locrinus would certainly have need of her, and, no doubt, he intended for it to appear as though he had her support.
As though she weren’t his prisoner.
With hair shorn, eating cold gruel.
She sensed now that Bryn chose his words more carefully. “Remember,” he said, and one guard cleared his throat. In response, Bryn seemed to rethink his words, his blue eyes simmering with loathing…for Gwendolyn?
Did he hate her now?
“Remember,” he said again. “When last we met my uncle?”
“I do,” she said, unable to hide the slant of her eyes.
“Please… try not to repeat the offense, will you?”
Offense? Once more,Gwendolyn blinked, this time rapidly in succession. Her brows knit with confusion.Did he mean the hunting excursion?
As far as she could remember, it was Adwen who’d arranged that event in her honor. For once in her life, Gwendolyn had had very little to do with any misconduct. Still, she bit her tongue, sensing he was trying to say something, but what it was she couldn’t tell.
“That is all,” he said, and a fresh wash of tears brimmed in Gwendolyn’s eyes. She crossed her arms and clenched her fists. “I will return later to escort you,” he said.
For the sake of appearances, Gwendolyn realized. “Yes, of course.” She nodded.
“I am still your Shadow,” he said, and Gwendolyn swallowed convulsively because there was a wealth of meaning in those five little words:I am still your Shadow.
Was this thesurpriseInnogen had intimated? At long last, she would be allowed to bathe, and sup in the hall like a human being, instead of a caged beast.
Please don’t leave,she silently begged.
The little girl in her longed to cast herself at his feet and beseech him not to go.
There was so much she needed to say.
Now seemed her only opportunity.
“Naturally,” she said, shaking her head, fighting back tears. “We… mustn’t… do anything… untoward… to alarm our ambassadors.” And when the guards peered into her room, she presented Bryn a glance that could have been mistaken for pique, and said, “Do tell. Have you so readily changed your allegiance?”
